


Spectres and other wasteland stuff

by FanFicReader01



Series: The Library Chronicles [12]
Category: Ice Road Rescue (TV), Poets of the Fall
Genre: Alternate Universe - Library, Artists, Drabble, Ghost Hunters, Ghosts, Lighthouse, Oneshot, Post-Apocalypse, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:01:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26814799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FanFicReader01/pseuds/FanFicReader01
Summary: Tiia has some inconvenient 'guests' that make her job as an artist difficult.
Series: The Library Chronicles [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1885000
Comments: 6
Kudos: 3





	Spectres and other wasteland stuff

It’s the fifth time already when I hear some painting cans fall over, spreading almost the entire content on the papers. “Come on, guys, this way I might as well decorate my entire lighthouse with spilled paint,” I groan. The Spectres who have somehow wandered into my place, don’t seem to leave. Even if I ask them kindly. However, we do not share the same language or one I can recognise. They’re more inconvenient than dangerous, but as someone who basically lives off of her art, it is bothersome and wasteful of the resources. I groan as I try to save as much paint as possible. Once that’s done, I have to clean up the Spectres’ mess. “So now you suddenly turn invisible and untouchable, huh.”

I turned on the radio, channelling to _Jealous Gods Radio_. It always feels like a warm welcome to hear the False King address his listeners and give us the wasteland news.

I hum along the music as I scrub my floors and throw away the old newspapers I wanted to use. For a moment I halt, Miika announces his guest for today’s interview. The man has a thick accent. I assume he must be from Sweden or something. I continue cleaning until I hear the interviewee mention Spectres and hunting them. I get up from the floor, roll my sleeves up again and listen carefully.

_Thord Paulsen._ I scribble his name onto the nearby paper.

I look at my room. The Spectres have grown quiet, as if they understand despite our language barrier.

\--

I’m lucky and manage to have contacted Thord and Bjørn in time because after a short wait of three days, the two men arrive in the harbour. I greet them at the docks where they pulled up from one of the boats. They have strange machinery with them which makes the other residents throw some curious looks as well.

“You prefer English or Finnish?” I ask them.

“English, if you don’t mind,” the blond man nods and the man with the greying beard agrees.

“Good. Please, come along,” I gesture with an inviting smile before guiding them to my small home.

“You have a nice place, Tiia” Bjørn remarks as he looks up to the tower.

“Thank you. Three years ago I restored a part of the house and repainted it.”

“A true artist,” Thord notices as he looks at the small paintings and decorations I have displayed in front of the lighthouse. “Anyway, you were having problems with Spectres.”

I nod as I lead them to the atelier. “This is the place of delict,” I chuckle. Thord grins along while Bjørn seems to be more serious about it. He puts down his own machine which looks like a wacky vacuum cleaner. I wonder if it works the same too.

“You mind if I turn this thing on?” he asks.

“Please do what you need to do,” I assure him.

“So… They are mainly harmless, right?” the older male asks.

“Yes. I think they’re little tricksters at times. A bit mischievous but they’re getting on my nerves as of late.”

“I see, I see.” The machine jumps to life and makes loud, clinging noises as the whole body of it starts shaking and pulsating. It is a rather peculiar sight but not too frightening. Bjørn lifts the trunk up, pushes a button and at the end of the trunk, some kind of satellite looking device erupts.

“He is scanning for Spectres,” Thord informs me as he readies his own gear that is equally ridiculous looking.

“Oy, Spectres? Can you hear us?” Thord suddenly shouts as he starts circling the place. At first there’s only the noise of their tools but slowly I see one of the naughty Spectres materialise themselves next to one of my easels. Thord immediately runs over and points his device to the Spectre. With a bellow it gets sucked into the vacuum thing. Soon more Spectres get trapped. For a brief second I wonder if the Spectres experience any pain because of their moans. Bjørn turns off the machine and starts disassembling it to store it in a few bags while I just stare in awe. “Something on your mind, Tiia?” Thord suddenly asks. I blink a bit and sheepishly smile. “No, I just wonder… do the Spectres feel a thing?”

“I doubt they do,” Bjørn grunts.

His partner clears his throat and mutters: “I like to think that the Spectres are grateful in the end. To end possible endless suffering.” I glare at the device they’re trapped in. No sign or sound from the Spectres anymore. After the duo fully cleaned up, we discuss the payment. I agree to give them a few coins and two paintings Thord had admired outside.

“Thank you for your services. It’s truly appreciated!” I exclaim.

“It’s nothing. We were happy to help,” Bjørn smiles and Thord and I shake hands before the two men go onboard of the boat again. I wave them goodbye and walk back to my lighthouse. For a moment, it suddenly feels quieter than before but at least, I can finish my larger painting which shall decorate one of the halls in the Northern Library. A belated birthday gift for Jari, one of my closest friends. Because all of my previous business travels and busy schedule, I sadly could not attend the party so I hope this painting will make up for my absence. I’m already looking forward to our reunion.


End file.
